Words and ActionOfficial Updated Version!
by MessengerOfDreams
Summary: Hah! I know, at it again! 75% massive edit! I'll chill out now. :P Peach is an officer skilled with words, and Falco an officer skilled at action. One would think "who does a better job?" but is it a matter of "or"? Perhaps one of "and?"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Well this looks annoyingly familiar, doesn't it?**

**Yes, many a time I've done work on my first story- whether tweaking the original, to starting (and neglecting) an extended remake, to this, which is simply a 75% edit of the original story. It may not be my best work, but I believe my original work needs an official update. I was gonna do it when the contest it was entered for, PitFTW/Foxpilot's AU contest, came to a close, but I realized that I almost lost this document and totally forgot about it till today, so I'm releasing it before I really screw something up.**

**Major edits!**

**Falco has been turned into a human, similar to my interpretation of Meta Knight in Audience of One. What that changes is… next to nothing. Pretty much, he's a human with a kick-arse blue Mohawk.**

**To go with the AU, I've taken full advantage of the location and moved it to Portland, Oregon, my beloved home. **

**Toning down the swearing. Cheer.**

**Extended scenes, new scenes, completely new dialogue, tweaks to storyline.**

**Divided into 4 chapters, prologue and epilogue, and is near 1,000 words.**

**However, for the most part, this is almost entirely the same as the first one in regards to storyline- just edited to fix the flaws in the first; do my pretty good beginnings justice. This piece was mostly worked on in May, around the time of Sparks/Beautiful Imperfections, but with tweaks made today.**

**Either way, I hope you enjoy!**

_Prologue-Peach's Mantra_

There seems to be a debate of the best way to handle things that seems older than time; old enough to make you wonder if this was something Adam and Eve ever brought up as a dinner discussion. Some people prefer words; diplomacy, trying to play on one's mind and heart, making them see through their eyes; walk in their shoes. In a way that you can perhaps make an ally.

Then there is action; feeling the need to pound it in their head. Well, truth be told, that's a bit harsh of a generalization, but action is mainly defense. You fear that it will not end well and you want this situation to end, now. The opponent is volatile and you don't want anyone on your side to get hurt, and if that involves attacking first, so be it. 'The best defense is a good offense' seems to be the motto of this group.

Truth is, you could argue day and night about which is better. But when it comes down to it, there's no better or worse. With words you can make an ally or make your enemy more volatile and have to use action. With action you could end up losing a potential ally beyond repair and then have to use words to try to rectify the trouble you got yourself into. Yin and Yang, you could say.

I wonder which sides Adam and Eve would have taken, if any.

Personally, I'm a words kind of girl. True, I believe both are necessary but I just can't see myself holding a gun to anyone's head.

I guess that'd make one wonder what in hell provoked me to become a police officer.

Truth is, Portland hasn't exactly gotten the best reputation for its police squad. Much too often innocent, troubled people are unintentionally killed by nervous, jumpy officers who think they have a weapon. I want to provide a change for that. I want to be the one who talks the man jumping off the building down from the precarious ledge. The one in the stand-off who makes the criminal jump the gun. I believe everyone can be redeemed, and I want to at least try to get someone to do so.

It's a good thing my partner is the action in this equation. We met a year ago when I became his new partner. He and I worked well together, and we still do.

He's, in a way, my backup. I try to approach with words, but when it becomes clear that it's not going to work, he's got my back. He's never deadly or jumpy, but he isn't afraid to kick some ass, so to speak. His primary goal is safety; safety for others, and for us.

You see, others think we'd clash. And sometimes we do. But I'd like to think we synergize together to create… something quite remarkable.

And that's how I'm going to change the world, even if it's just the world of one person.

**A/N It's a start. As stated, read on for more! I may not have the whole thing up today due to editing, but it'll be up soon enough.**

**Thanks!**

**MoD**


	2. Often Thought Seperate

**A/N This is really all getting done at once, so no new news. :3 Just know that if there are any editing malfunctions, I'd like to know.**

**Thanks and enjoy!**

**MoD**

Chapter 1- Often thought separate…

The female officer of 27 years of age lifted the crime scene tape up and ducked under, taking a look up to the sky. Sometimes, she thought, God was hard to see past all these buildings. She stared up as far as she could, and it seemed that the sky was much more distant here than it was anywhere else. The buildings stretched up only a few hundred feet, but the Portland overcast skies that couldn't take a hint that they needed to leave seemed to make columns of gray clouds, adding downcast weather to the downcast scene.

She approached a younger man lying in the street. He wore a red and black cap and clothes of the same nature. He was not dead, thank god, but he certainly wasn't going to be able to get up and walk away. Blood lined his clothes, the deep crimson a sort of mix between the tomato red and charcoal black of his shirt. His arm sort of dangled off to the side as if it needed to be attached better, which was very likely, and his legs were bent at an angle that even a contortionist would shudder at. His face read a subtle expression of pain, but more evident was the outright shock lining his eyes and gaping mouth.

As if to prove her point, the man lifted his head up and asked "What the hell just happened?" He looked over, saw his arm and uttered "Oh my god..." Looking farther down he saw his grotesque leg and retched, but controlled his stomach.

"You were mugged," the female officer said outright. "Not a clue who or where he is, so I'm going to head out after him and you, my friend, are heading to the hospital."

"No kidding," the boy said, but his voice was laden with a melancholy wonder rather than a snide sarcasm. "So my wallet is gone, right?"

The officer nodded.

"Shit," he blurted.

The officer nodded. "One of those days. Better that than your life, though." She noticed a small crowd who gathered in front of the area that mirrored the downcast weather, whispering among themselves. They were surrounded by an eclectic mix of old age stone buildings and new age concrete. The woman gave them a subtle nod to acknowledge their presence. "My partner should be here any moment, so we can get to work on retrieving your stuff."

The boy managed a small nod. "Red James. What's your name, ma'am?"

The female raised an eyebrow but continued. "Peach Davidson."

It was Red's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Interesting name for a police officer."

"Well, I am an interesting person." she replied matter-of-factly. She did have to agree though. She definitely didn't have a typical police officer name, and she sure as hell didn't look like it. Aside from her uniform, she looked like she should be running a cake bakery, not battling criminals. Her long, straight golden hair reached her shoulders, styled well yet subtly so. Her eyes were a hue of gemstone blue, shining innocently and wondrously. Her face had slight, beautiful touches to them, from her regal lips to her nose, which seemed lost somewhere between slim and button. Her voice was very high-pitched and almost squeaky, but her demeanor allowed it to portray her force of authority and strength. As a final feminine touch, she wore pearl earrings. What could she say? She was a very feminine person. She just happened to be a police officer. Funny how life turns out.

After her quickly speeding train of thought, she heard a car door slam, and instantly she knew her partner had arrived. His rough, raucous voice shouted out "Okay, Peach, what the hell do we got here?"

Peach nodded and greeted the man. "Hello, Falco. We got a mugging. Victim's name is Red James. Lost his wallet. Unknown how much we got in there, but that's not the real issue."

Falco Lombardi nodded. True to his name, the twenty-nine year old man had a slight, birdlike appearance, but was indeed very strong and fit, one of the top in the academy. To top it off, he sported a tall, blue Mohawk in chunks that could be mistaken for feathers.

"I should say not. Kid looks really damn tore up. A goddamn miracle he survived."

Peach knotted her brow in frustration. Leave it to Falco to throw manners to the wind followed by a middle finger. "Are you trying to scare the damn kid? Jesus, he just got mugged."

Falco rolled his eyes. "What, it's true."

Peach growled internally. "Christ above. Anyway, ambulance on the way, they'll take this kid to the ER and we'll get back to him later. Suspect fled north on Naito Parkway, towards the Industrial area. We'll head after him next."

Falco gave her a thumbs up and a small, devious grin. Peach couldn't help but notice with a silent chuckle how out of touch he was with the rest of the crowd, which he was speaking to now.

Wait. Oh, dear lord.

"You know what? Why are you even here?" he addressed them condescendingly, his grin having fallen. "You can crowd around here, looking sympathetic, but you know and I know that this is nothing more to you than being an extra on CSI. Hell, this will have as much impact on you as a newspaper obituary. If you really wanted something to make you cry, you'd go listen to Evanescence and watch your eyeliner drip into your Twilight book."

Gesturing to Red, he finished with "So why don't you go to work or whatever, forget this happened like I know you will, and stop treating the kid like he's a museum exhibit." Waving his arms towards them, he barked out "Go on, get!"

The crowd looked at Falco, bewildered, and then awkwardly dispersed. Peach took this moment to slam her head into her First Aid Kit, taking a break from cleaning up the blood from Red's chest.

_I thought he was working past that… _she thought, but indeed, signs lingering from events past still wore evident on his actions.

Falco walked over, another devious grin on his face as he said "Crowd's cleared. Got some peace and frigging quiet," which came out ironically loud, echoing off the suddenly lifeless area. Peach gave him a drop-dead glare and sighed.

He took a look around and said "Oh, wait, there's someone here." He gave a deadly glare to the remaining man, who wore a scarf and a jumpsuit with some odd symbols. What really made him stand out, though, were his eyes. They were a bright red, scarily so.

Throwing a hand up in the air in annoyance, he shouted out "Hey, I thought I told you to give the damned kid some space! Get lost-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a gun being cocked. The man had pulled out a shotgun and had aimed it at Falco. Peach gasped, trying to shelter Red in some sort or another.

Falco just smirked, ready for action.

**A/N Le-gasp. ****New scene! Like the extended cut of... stuff… yeah…**

**So, cliffhanger that is POINTLESS since the next chapter will be up in 10 minutes. Adios!...until then. :3**


	3. Action

**A/N I have big news!**

…**actually no I don't cos this is about 5 minutes after the last chapter! Nothing's changed, except I'm hungry.**

**Enjoi. :3**

_Chapter 2- …action…_

"Oh really?" He had no trouble getting out his own. "Standing right in the crowd of people around the person you attacked? You cocky little son of a masochist."

The two stood there, holding their guns out at each other. Falco wasn't about to make a move until he was comfortable. The other man, however, felt comfortable enough.

He sprinted towards Peach and Red, his gun still out. Red couldn't help but yelp in surprise as the barrel was pointed towards him. Peach covered the boy, but this only caused the gun to tilt towards his head. I

_It can't end like this!_ Prim thought, but indeed, it felt awfully close.

Before the man could take any action, though, Falco had an arm in a chokehold around his neck. The man struggled as Falco pried the gun away from him, and, after glancing at it, threw it to the ground.

"Think you can live without your piss-poor little gun there?"

He landed a fist to the man's face and said "Now listen here, you fucking moron. I don't ever want to see you anywhere near that kid again. You got that? Now come on, let's get you in the-"

Falco was interrupted by the scarf-sporting man seamlessly escaping Falco's grip at his one moment of weakness, and darting up the street and onto Naito Parkway.

"Yeah! Go ahead and run, you little bitch! We'll be back to get you!" Falco shouted as he looked at the man's gun. Quickly getting a Ziploc bag and a rubber glove out of the trunk, he stored it away and put it in the car. "Evidence. You know, as if we'll need it."

There was finally the aforementioned silence in the area as Falco gave Red a thumbs up and leaned against the cruiser. At that moment, the ambulance arrived for Red.

"Alrighty, kid," Peach said to Red. "Good luck, and heal fast, you hear? We'll be back in a little while to talk a bit more if necessary."

Red nodded, and then shifted his gaze to Falco. "Mad character over there, right?"

Peach nodded, but felt slightly offended by his comment, even though it seemed like a harmless breaking of tension. "He's a really good guy once you get him talking."

Red chuckled. "He sure does enough of that on his own," he said.

"He's a lot better of a guy than you make him out to be," Peach told him coldly with a glare. "I'd also like to add that he just saved your life."

Red didn't know how to respond to that. "Oh… uhm, I'm sorry."

"No, my apologies," she said, haphazardly brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Long week, you know how it is."

Red chuckled awkwardly.

Peach did the same.

"Well, uh..."

"Yeah, catch you later," she said as the EMTs loaded him in the ambulance.

Peach turned her attention to Falco with a look that communicated "The hell was that?" clearer than words could ever do, a mixture of shock and relief in her gaze, making her breathing irregular.

"What? Aw, that was nothing" he replied with his trademark devious grin. Peach eased into a smile. She had to admit, that grin was pretty hard to resist. It clearly revealed Falco's unrelenting and unmannerly demeanor, but as odd as it sounded, she sensed a hint of innocence when she saw it, a kindness, an "I'm only having fun," feeling. It was actually quite cute.

Really, Peach? She thought to herself. As she walked to her side of the car she gave herself an incredulous look in the side mirror. Falco took a last look around, shrugged and got into the driver's seat.

It was silent for the first couple of minutes as they scanned the area up Naito for the mystery attacker. Falco kept his eyes on the road, pausing once to put his hand through his blue hair, which others said reeked of hipster but certainly wasn't, feeling exhausted. Not that he was tired from all five minutes of standing out there. He had already had a somewhat long day beforehand. Getting out of therapy and all.

When he glanced in the mirror he saw his steady, hardened face and the top of his fit, but not very muscular chest. He certainly looked like what he was; an experienced, borderline hardened police officer and damn proud of it.

Peach broke the silence with "Alright, seriously, I can understand fighting the perpetrator and all, but what in God's name provoked that weird tangent of yours?"

Falco grinned, not devious but a humored grin. "What? If I got my ass knocked into the street, I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted an audience, especially one that doesn't give a ten penny fuck. Damn sure of it."

Peach sighed, reaching for Falco's shoulder, but he shrugged her off as he drove. She tried her words again. "I know it's not just that… it can't be. You were never like this-"

"Before?" he snapped. "Yeah, maybe not, but I don't care what happened, it was a true statement and you and I both know it!"

Peach sighed, less anger than frustration. "Look, I don't care whether it is or not. We're supposed to be professional. You looked like a jackass, and I, for one, don't wanna be carting around a totally incompetent partner."

A short wounded look flashed across Falco's face, although he'd never admit it. He convinced himself that this didn't matter, that he was beyond this. _Yeah...only no_, He thought to himself. Not so much the words, but the deliverer.

"...Sorry. That was a low blow," Peach said apologetically, noticing his brow furrowing. She knew he wasn't one to show hurt, but being partners with him since she started, and a good person studier otherwise, she knew even when he hid it.

Falco shrugged it off.

"And thank you," she added.

"Just doing my job, miss."

No other words were needed.

Another 5 seconds of silenced breezed through until Peach added, "Besides, I rather like Evanessance."

Falco laughed loudly and said "You know, so do I."

"Oh, really? Then what was with that quip?" she replied. The way she asked it told Falco point-blank that she wanted to make a conversation out of it. He could live with that.

"Ah, you know," he sighed good-naturedly, "I just needed to provide some sort of music metaphor for emotional, and that's the only one any of those pop-suckers would understand."

"Uh huh."

"The National, though, that's totally what I'd pick. Those guys… pretty much the only band to give me chills," he admitted. At least to him that was an admission; he didn't really talk personal stuff.

"Hmm?" She mused on this. "Not what I'd have figured."

"I figured as much," he replied with a wan smile as he pressed play on the stereo. "But I'd rather listen to something else right now."

Peach groaned as Kanye West started to play. Everyone calls it a work of art, but it sounds like an attempt for a world record of the most obscenity-laden Album of all time, she complained to herself, immediately reprimanding herself for being overly saintly as she eased into the music. She couldn't argue too much about how aptly she was named, she was the embodiment of Miss Peach and Proper... if she was a police officer.

Still, she couldn't help but flinch when the chorus came through.

_Gossip, gossip, nigga just stop it. Everyone knows I'm a motherfuckin' monster._

Falco turned to her and raised his eyebrow knowingly. "Too much dirt for you, sugar?" he wisecracked.

"No!" she automatically defended herself.

"In other words, 'Yes, but I don't want to admit it.' " Falco gave her a look of sneaky triumph.

"Damn you," she replied with a soft growl.

Falco grinned and turned to the road. "Heh, see, I gotcha there. But when all is said and done, I kinda get the message in the song."

_Message?_ She thought. "Message?" she blurted out.

"Yeah, sure there is." Falco stated. "I mean, no one starts out a monster. It happens, and most of it here in what I like to call reality, it's very much caused by others. Y'know, when you get so much pressure to be what everyone says, it either conforms you or you just say 'Fuck it, I'm a monster. Deal with it, bitch."

Peach was surprised to find some meaning behind Falco's coarse words. "Ah," she replied.

Falco nodded and finished with "Long story short, when people turn you into a monster, you fight your demons and then you become who you want to be."

Peach was impressed every time Falco's random tangents gave way to his thoughtful philosophy. She smiled and made a sudden grasp for his free hand. "You know, that's a good one. I like that."

Falco grinned as he squeezed her hand. "Thanks. Hey, over there, I think that's our guy." He motioned to a nearby warehouse.

Peach nodded as he pulled over. "You're right. Let's go."

"Alrighty!" Falco grinned, leaping out of the car. "So lemme get this straight: I rush up to him and knock him out and you-"

"No. Hell no!" Peach stopped him cold in his tracks. "Are you TRYING to kill yourself? We approach him casually first. Don't scare the wits out of him."

Falco nodded. "Alrighty, Word Girl. But if he makes a move, I'm going all out, guns blazing."

Peach nodded. "Deal."

The two casually started to walk up to the man on the docks, who wore the same attire as before; emitting what Falco thought to be a suspicious aura; not that he was ever really good with telling Aura.

Peach found herself looking up again, smiling when she saw that the sky was much more visible here. The wharf was the only escape from the overcast shadows that almost brought nighttime during the day in times of bad weather. She often liked to drive along the industrial riverside, if only to enjoy the increase of sunshine.

Peach led the way casually, approaching him. She started with "Hello, sir, can we have a word with-" before the man punched her in the nose and started to run off, at a breakneck speed.

"Jesus!" Peach breathed, falling to the ground. Tears started to form over her lashes as she said "Falco! Blaze those guns!"

Just the corny action line he needed. With a confident smirk, he started to dash after the attacker as he ducked behind a warehouse. Falco leapt over an entire set of empty railroad tracks, clearing the 15 foot space with ease.

Peach wasn't surprised as she watched Falco leap the distance with a weary smile. She always knew that even when his people skills were at his worst, Falco Lombardi was definitely an Action Badass.

Said action badass continued to chase the assailant through a warehouse, empty yet not abandoned, when he saw him disappear into a maze of shipment. "Son of a bitch," he muttered before he followed. Damn maze looked so intimidating that he would be lucky to get out alive. What a sucky death it'd be, Death by Maze. And what a cliché, too.

He first took a right. After all, it was called right; therefore it must be right. Right? Wrong. Lead into a damn dead end. Irony. My middle finger greets you.

He backtracked, sped to the left and wound around some crates until he found his scarved amigo. He took out his gun and started firing some shots. Not to kill, just to get him to fall on his face long enough to bag and book the guy. Although he'd enjoy blasting a bullet through the bastard's head; the damn guy broke his partner's nose. No one ever lays a damn hand on his Peach.

His Peach? The hell was that all about, Falco? But hey, he had a manner of business to attend to.

Like bagging a bastard. The assailant dodged all the shots with expert precision. Holy shiiiit, this guy's gonna be hard to catch.

As further confirmation of this fact, his target jumped onto a jet-ski and started to speed off upriver. "Oh no you don't!" he growled as it started to depart. A split second later, he took a running start and took a flying leap onto the watercraft, landing with a punch to the guy's face. To hell with guns, it's all down to a full-out brawl.

The man knocked Falco off of him, almost off of the jet-ski. Falco leapt up and performed a kick to the man's neck, landing perfectly balanced on his feet on the seat. Scarved Man, as Falco decided to coin him, replied by lowering his arms and tripping Falco to his knees. While he was bent over and defenseless, Scarved Man landed a kick to the stomach, and the force of his foot knocked Falco up to his feet unsteadily.

"I don't think so!" Pissed as all hell, he spit on Scarved Man, a mixture of blood and saliva, right into his eyes, the only open spot in his scarf. He heard an unintelligible growl as Scarved Man stumbled back into the steering wheel. Before he could tip the boat over, however, Falco lifted him up and threw him into the water, watching him flail.

Falco couldn't help but take this time to yell out a victorious fist pump and "Fuck, man, I'm on a boat motherfucka!" Oh yeah. He had been saving that one. He stopped indulging himself long enough to see Scarved Man swimming like hell back to the wharf. Desperately, Falco fired off some shots from the boat, but only managed to nick him on the ear with as much force as a BB gun.

Damn it. The hell was he thinking? He sped the boat back to the wharf and ran up and around the warehouse, defeated. He made his way to Peach, who was unsteadily sitting on one of the flat stakes in the wharf fence. His face was a intentional sign of defeat and self-loathing. That may have seemed like too strong a term, but right now Falco wanted to stand in a mirror and have his reflection smack the teeth out of him.

Peach frowned. "Didn't get him?"

Falco growled. "Nope. I pulled a dumbass move, and he got away."

"Damn."

"You're telling me. God, I feel like an idiot."

"Get over yourself," Peach snapped; although comfort was her intent, she ended up sounding rather scathing. She sighed in resignation. This was not their day.

"You're right, you're right." he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Are you sure? That freaked me out." Falco frowned, his face a mask of worry and offense, offense not aimed at her.

"Dude, I'm fine. I'm fine. A bloody nose. I'll just bandage it up. I should be asking you the same. You're hocking up blood spitballs."

She leaned off the fence stake, but wobbled a bit. Falco put a hand around her neck to steady her.

"Thanks. Sorry, I have a bitching headache."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Look, Falco, the important thing is that we didn't get seriously hurt, and we slowed him down a bit. So don't worry, that wasn't useless. You did a good job. But, seriously, are you okay?"

Falco grinned his devious grin as he steadied himself. "Yeah, I'll get over it. But we have some regrouping to do. And I could go for a cup of coffee. You?"

Peach grinned. His idea of a cup of coffee was a large assortment of breakfast items, no matter that it was three in the afternoon. "Sounds good. I could use a little boost."

Falco smiled, grabbing Peach's arm as they walked back to the cruiser with a slight haphazardness that only a beat-up pair could sport.

**A/N You know where the next button is. :3**

**MoD**


	4. And Words

**A/N Insert joke about this being all in one day and the disclaimer which I forgot earlier and call it a day.**

_Chapter 3 …and words…_

"Yes, Samus," Peach spoke through her phone to a fellow worker. "The suspect did get away after attacking both of us... no, I'm fine... yeah, he's fine, too... heh, you're right, that's Falco. Don't know how he does it... yeah, so we could use some backup... Falco said this guy had some freaky moves...yeah. Meet us up at Stumptown Coffee... the one off Third Street... alright, thank you, Sam. Buh-bye."

She hung up her phone and set it gently down by her plate and glanced at Falco, who was just finishing guzzling down the last of his coffee. She grinned as she looked down at her plate, which held a donut, and English Muffin Egg sandwich, and a croissant, and over at Falco's single cup of coffee. Funny how things work out, she reminded herself.

Falco set his cup of coffee down, jarring Peach out of her thoughts and causing her to jump into an upright position. Falco grinned, this time more sheepish than fun-devious. "Sorry 'bout that."

Peach shook her head. "Nah, it's alright."

Falco laughed, but mid-laugh, he started coughing into his napkin. Not just coughing, but hacking up a lung. About 30 seconds later, he stopped, took a breath, and looked at his napkin, now dotted with blood. He frowned, crumpled it up, and took a glance at the trash bin. He moved his hand, did a quick second of measuring, and then tossed the dirty napkin overhand into its target. It flew through the air in a straight downward line. It nearly hit a young girl in the face, but it landed in the can nicely. Falco smiled and sighed in relief.

Peach looked over at him. He still had a bit of dried blood on his face but he didn't seem to care. "Man... I'm really sorry about what happened to you." she told him.

Falco smiled. "Naw, don't worry. This isn't that bad. I'm a cop, this happens to me a lot, y'know?"

"But still, I was right there," Peach's words started to stumble out her mouth before she could stop them. "I should have at least tried to do something instead of just sit there, I mean, I know I'm not as agile and strong and stuff as you are, but you're my partner, and I should always have your back, and-"

"Hold it, hold it, hold it!" Falco put his hands up in the air. "You're too damn hard on yourself. I mean, I'm alright, you're alright, and we're gonna get this guy. Seriously. You don't need to worry about me. Just like you don't want me to worry about you."

A few seconds passed before Falco blurted out "Besides, I'm supposed to be this kind of guy. I mean, people pretty much see me and they run. Considering that half the time I looked mad as hell, I just, you know, kind of fit the guy who chases people down and stuff. You know, people see me and they feel intimidated, like... that fast."

As soon as he finished, Falco had to wonder to himself what the hell he had just said. It was as if he just pulled out a few random nagging thoughts and just...barfed them out. Christ, he's never that… well, open about things that bug him. If something bugs him, he just squashes it.

Peach finished her last piece of egg and said "Well, that's cause they don't have a damned clue. I mean, I'm just one person, but what I see is a man who doesn't take any bullshit. A man who looks for the truth and wields it. A man ready to kick ass, but only for the right reasons. A man whose mean exterior hides a mind so insightful and intelligent." She stopped for a second and added "Besides, I thought you didn't give a damn, right?"

" Falco sighed. "I know… usually I don't… but thanks. It's nice to hear that, even though I wasn't expecting it."

Peach smiled and finished the conversation with "It's only the truth."

Falco turned a slight shade of red. He tried to hold it back, hoping somehow he could change his current facial color back to normal just by willing it. Peach's way with words were about as good as his way with action. Maybe better. Yeah, probably better. "You're a real smart girl, you know that?"

"Aw, thanks," Peach smiled and looked towards the door as it opened. Her eyes swiftly narrowed in shock when she saw the Scarved Man walk through, with an air of nonchalant. She turned her head away and hissed "Scarved Man at 8 o'clock!"

"8 o'clock? The hell direction is that?"

"Behind you! To your right!"

Falco gently looked behind him and saw Scarved Man nodding and grabbing a cup of coffee. You wouldn't have been able to recognize him were it not for the fact that he had a scarf on; and even then the scarf was a different color than the one at the wharf; this time green as the PSU sweatshirt he was wearing. But the eyes were what made him stand out, even though they seemed subtler than before, probably thanks to contacts.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he hissed back to Peach. "He just flipped a bitch trying to get away from us!"

Peach shushed him with "Listen."

Falco stopped to listen, but shrugged a bit into it. "He's having small talk. What does that mean?"

"It means that he doesn't know we're here," she explained, frustration in her whisper. "Now, when I give the symbol, we both apprehend him unawares."

Falco nodded. "Okay, gotcha." He followed this with a mumble of "All the damn coffee shops in the city and he picks this one to get some Joe at."

Resuming a façade of nonchalant, the two paid their attentions to their phones, not letting their peripherals off of the man. Then, Peach put hers away and quietly gave the signal. "Now!"

Right when the two prepared to get up, the Scarved Man reacted by picking up his coffee. The moment he grabbed it, he swiftly threw it at the server's face, causing him to scream in agony and fall to the ground.

"Son of a bitch." Falco growled. Before he could say more, he was thrown to the ground, his feet pulled from underneath him. He sat there, stunned, as he saw Peach fall to the ground herself, also surprised, but not before she could pull off the scarf from his face.

Actually, her face.

"Son of a bitch's cousin." Falco was a bit surprised but figured in the long run it didn't matter, as he went to get his gun and leap up. He stopped in his tracks as the Scarved Woman pulled out a knife and held it to his throat before he could even realize what had happened.

"Twice removed." he added; even with a knife to his throat he was spouting out witticisms. He looked at Peach, who looked back at him with anxiety and surprise.

Falco looked at the Scarved Woman and roared "You better let us the fuck go right now, or I swear to god there will be hell to pay!"

Scarved Woman glared at him, insanity in her eyes and hissed "Shut up. I have no problem ending things for you right now." Her bloodshot eyes narrowed as she finished with a menacing "Do you really wanna play with me, boy?"

Falco was speechless for the first time he could remember.

Peach looked at the whole scenario. Scarved Woman was holding Falco at knife-point. But she wasn't taking any money out of the register; she didn't seem to be making a move on killing Falco. Why the hell was she here?

All Peach knew for certain was that Falco was not going to die on her watch.

"Alright, Miss…" she started.

"Sheik," the woman spat back.

"Sheik, I'm Officer Peach Davidson, and I'm going to ask you to put the knife down." she started, hobbling to her feet.

"And why the hell would I do that? You think I'm gonna buy the whole bullshit about 'you're not gonna go to jail if you put the knife down and just walk out?' Anyone who's seen an episode of Law and Order knows that that's not gonna happen." Sheik replied, hate spewing from her words. But if Peach was correct, the hate didn't seem to be directed at them at all.

"I wasn't going to, ma'am." Peach replied, trying to keep her nerves steadily. "You're going to jail, one way or another. But are you really ready to go to jail for killing a cop? Are you really ready to face that?"

"I don't give a damn anymore!" Sheik's voice grew into a yell, blasting Falco's eardrums. "I've got not a damn thing on this Earth I care about, not a damn thing, and it doesn't give a damn about me either! I don't give a shit if I drag it all down to hell with me."

Peach looked at her eyes, and the pain that clouded out all the traces of hate and evil that she should have right about now. She saw, and she understood. "The whole Earth abandoned you, you say? I think I understand."

"Understand? How the hell do you understand?" was the response.

"I can see in your eyes. You don't hate anyone here. You're angry. You're hurt. You're upset. Maybe even betrayed."

"How… do you think you know that?" Sheik spat back at her, her voice returning to a hiss. Peach could tell that her resolve was shaking, though.

"I'm not just a shrink guessing. I'm empathizing more than anything," Peach said, trying to keep herself steady. "I know what it's like to be in so much pain that you want to throw it upon everyone."

"You?" Sheik sneered. "Don't make me laugh. I can tell how pampered you are in life. You look as soft and naïve as a rabbit. Don't tell me how hard shit is for you."

"Sometimes it's more than it seems," Peach glanced at the ground. "But, you're right. I'm not here to preach about myself or go 'oh poor me.' I just want you to tell me, honest to God, why are you here? Why do you have a knife to my partner's throat? This doesn't seem just like something you'd do for sport."

Sheik's grip tightened on the knife, and nicked Falco's skin slightly. He looked at Peach with pleading eyes. It pained him so much, to be the one praying for his life with Peach trying to defend herself alone.

God, he just wanted to be of some service!

"My brother," she sighed, and Peach could tell that there was a relief on those two words. The knife relaxed slightly from Falco's neck.

"Your brother?" Peach pressed.

"You killed my brother," she repeated, louder, angrier.

"Who killed your brother?" Bewilderment shone in Peach's reaction.

"You! Goddamn police officers! Police officers killed my brother!" Sheik was back to a yell.

Peach almost dropped her gun when she heard that. This was exactly what she worked against, why she was an officer in the first place. But her face betrayed no shock as she said "How did this happen?"

Sheik shook with anger with every sentence. "He was a homeless man. Lived out in Forest Park. I rarely was able to see him, because he moved around often. He was going mad there. Nothing… was ever working out right for him… he was losing his mind." Sheik's voice started to quiver, but she forced herself to keep it together.

"He ran into some police officers on one of the trails and asked for change. The officers just brushed him off, like he wasn't there. Ike… my brother was desperate. He picked up a stick, and swung it at one of the officers and demanded some change, knocking him down… Ike was always a strong man.

"Before the other officer even looked at the stick well enough, just… bam. Ike was dead. No effort, no attention, no thinking before he fired the fucking gun, just… bam. And all he wanted… all he wanted was some change… no, all he wanted was his fucking life back!" By now her voice had cracked measurably, but she was still standing steadily. "They killed him so thoughtlessly… he was all the family I had left here and they didn't give me anything more than a half-assed apology letter. And it's not even the first fucking time it's happened- they kill innocent people just like my brother all the fucking time!" She finished this expression back in a pained whisper.

But when she turned to look at Falco, rage returned to her voice. "And you! You were just going to fire right off at me and kill me just like that! You're just like them! I'm going to make all of you suffer a loss just like mine! Maybe when you lose one of yours like I lost mine, you'll finally wake up!" She was at a full on shriek by now as she drew the knife towards his throat, ready to make a kill move.

Peach gasped. "Ma'am, please. Put… the knife down."

"Hurts, doesn't it?" was the reply, manic.

"Ma'am! Just look at me!"

The force in Peach's tone was enough to surprise the knife-wielding woman into looking up at her. To the surprise of all the unfortunate people present (the few customers who were bleakly entranced by the standoff) Peach's face wore an expression of sorrow, yet determination. She didn't look to be full on sobbing, but you could tell in her eyes the empathy promised earlier; the feeling of desperation. Her tone betrayed none of that, though, as she made her final argument at a rapid word speed.

"Ma'am, please, I know how horrible this is, I do, I truly do. It pains me to see how much this has hurt you, because this is exactly what I fight to stop. Just trust me when I saw that this has turned you into a monster of yourself; I know you wouldn't really shoot a police officer if this hadn't happened. But if you kill this man right now, you're not going to get anything out of it; no one is. It's just gonna get worse; we'll just be jumping the gun more often. You're only going to hurt everyone if you do this."

She took a breath and finished with Just… please, I can tell you, that just because you're a monster now doesn't mean it's always going to be this way. These people turned you into one but you can turn yourself back. You've just got to fight the demons of the past, of what happened, of what turned you, and then you start fresh, and you create whatever you want for yourself. I… I'm not here to preach to you, I want so badly to help you, but I can't help you as much as you can yourself." At the last sentence, her voice cracked and she stopped, with pleading, forceful eyes.

Falco gasped even with a knife to his throat. She actually used his words. And she actually said them better than he did. He felt a pang of pride. He put in a short "Listen, ma'am, I know what it's like to lose someone the way you did. That's exactly why I jumped you so fast… we can see how well that went, right?" He attempted a nervous chuckle that came out more like a gasp.

The woman stood there, motionless, like a Grecian statue. The crowd, Peach and Falco stood there for sixty painful seconds, not sure what direction the knife was going to go and having no further ability to do anything about it.

Then the room jumped at the sound of metal clattering. Everyone's eyes darted towards the woman, who had dropped the knife at Falco's feet. None were more surprised than Falco himself, who got up hesitantly.

Peach took this opportunity to walk over to Sheik, who made no attempts to resist; trying to hold strong and steady but not being able to prevent a few stray tears as Peach cuffed her.

"You're going to be heading to jail now, it seems. But take this as a chance. Use this to fight your demons and become your vision. And despite what Lawyers may spit at you on the stand and what people who hear of this may say of you, you are not going to be a monster anymore."

The moment Peach whispered gently as they walked out the door "Live for your brother… in some way… you've got so much potential…" was when Sheik finally started to break down. Peach squeezed her hand gently, comfortingly as they walked to the cruiser.

Right around there was when their requested backup arrived. Falco rolled his eyes and, attempting a joke, said "About damn time. Always arrive after the fight, don't they?" No one laughed, so he stopped trying to put up a front and opened the door, letting the cold wind let him sober up to what happened, letting it wash over him and alert him out of this surreal daze. He made no efforts to walk out, though. Peach was already heading back inside.

He held the door open, but she didn't take more than a step in as the crowds cleared out.

Without looking over at him, she said "Her name was Sheik Levinson. She was the one who mugged Red. Looks like she'll get a plea deal and we'll get Red his stuff back."She blinked a bit and added "And Sam told me our shift's about over. So we can head home now."

Falco nodded and stood in front of her. "Peach… thanks. For everything. I owe you one."

"No, don't mention it. It's just my job," she tried saying the words he had told her earlier, but with little conviction.

"You know, when you told her what I told you, something I hadn't quite pieced together myself, I felt so proud of you," he admitted, grabbing her hand. "It was nice to know you remembered."

Before she could respond, he continued with "But you know, and I know, that saying that 'it's just your job' is utter bullshit. You put yourself out there… that's one of the bravest things I've seen. And I know, right now, you're starting to feel-"

He hadn't finished his sentence before she fell into him shakily, breaking down into sobs. Damnit, she hated being the one to break out into sobs. Especially since it was over her duties as a police officer that had broken her down; it made her feel weak, like this wasn't the job for her. But Falco, someone that even she had to admit was brave, had told her how brave she was. Was she doing things right?

She didn't say a word, and he didn't ask her to. She just stood there, relieving her burden, letting it splash in little bits unceremoniously onto the floor. And he held her there the entire time.

She didn't notice the small, sparse tears on her shoulder that didn't belong to her.

**A/N Now we wrap to a conclusion! Chapter 4 next!**

**MoD**


	5. Synergize Beautifully

_Chapter 4- …synergize beautifully_

_To: Peach_

_From: Falco_

_Time and Date: 6:17pm, 5/21/11_

_Peach. Meet me at Cathedral Park ASAP. Pretty Please? Thanks. Falco._

Falco sighed as he put his phone back in his jacket pocket and took a seat on the edge of the fishing dock, his feel dipping into the river. This wasn't the wharf Peach loved to drive by, but this place was beautiful nonetheless. The Gothic styled Saint Johns' Bridge loomed a hundred feet overhead, giving the park its name, its arches eerily similar to a cathedral arch. The park was lined with beautiful trees that were starting to bloom in the spring. This was a place he wanted to remember today.

He was wearing no officer's suit today. Today he was simply wearing a jacket, shirt and a pair of old ragged jeans. He was ready to sit here all night if necessary. He was prepared, too. He had his Mp3 player loaded with The National's new album, and let the heartfelt music play on his emotions.

With a tap on the shoulder, he looked behind him. She was wearing a nice green sweatshirt, and a long floral skirt. She looked beautiful. They hadn't talked since the standoff yesterday; their drive to the station was quiet and thick with drifting thoughts.

It killed Falco to see her break down like that; because he knew it killed her to break down. It killed her to look weak. But Falco knew she was nothing of the sort. What she had done yesterday amazed him more than any badass fight scene. More than six bullets or only five. She was graceful, intelligent, and beautiful inside and out. He understood her, and one ever seemed to understand him the way she did.

He faced her, and motioned for her to sit on the dock, which she did, her sandals dipping in the water, her skirt pulled up to her knees like a blanket. He looked at her and said "Hello there, Peach."

"Why did you have me come over here?" she asked, almost flatly. Falco was taken aback a bit by her question. Not her usual nod hello.

"Well, I'm not sure if it's too soon or bad timing or whatever, but I wanted just to talk," he said, looking nervously around the park at nothing in particular.

"Talk?" she asked, a bit confused.

"Yeah, I know!" he laughed nervously. "Me, the man of action, wanting to have a talk. I know how you feel; I'm surprising myself."

He sighed, leaning back on his arms. "But I know something happened yesterday, and I can tell you from years of experience that letting something like this go by and not saying a word about it really comes back to bite you in the ass."

"You're a therapist?" she asked with tentative sarcasm.

"No, but I've spoken to several," he replied with a small, devious grin.

"Well, what do you expect me to say?" she asked, still somewhat guarded. "Nothing bad happened; in fact, it was a great moment."

"Then why did you break down crying?" he replied, slowly reaching for her hand.

"Goddamnit, Falco. It was just a tense moment. You act nothing like that's ever happened."

"You hate looking weak. You'd have broken in a window before crying on the job, what with all your feminism and idealism and such."

"…you really do know me well."

"Of course I do, you're my partner," he replied, but his tone lost its footing at the end. "Trust me, Peach. When Rob… yeah, when Rob died, I didn't say a word about it outside of that night. I missed his funeral because I wanted to deny it was there, that it was true. It wasn't until a month after you joined up with me when you finally got me to let go. And… it felt better from there.

"I'm gonna be honest. It still gets me. That scene I made at Red's crime scene… it was definitely a by-product. And I still feel down, closed up. But you're such a great help… I owe you this.

"Now, something's up Peach, something's not sitting well with you. I don't have the damndest of what it is, but that's where you come in. Just… go on, scream it out. I don't want to see you cry again, but if you need to go ahead, I'll be right here. I won't even say anything or ask you 'how does that make you feel?' The floor's all yours."

She sighed in an undeterminable emotion but said "Alrighty. Here goes."

He squeezed her hand silently.

"It was… I think it was just seeing the fiery determination she had for her brother, to do anything for him, it was just… something so unfamiliar to me. And it… well it all traces back to my lack of connection with family."

She looked at him and said "You can back out of this now, you know." He shook his head.

"Well… alright," she sighed, resigned. "I never had an abusive family, or a drug addled family, or an impoverished family. I had a rich family, with a reputation to uphold. The thing is, they were desperate to uphold their reputation and image. And with me being the next of kin, they did that through me.

"They provided for me, but they decided for me. They gave me toys, but never let me pick them out; they decided what I'd like. And often they were wrong. I tried to address them on this but they just said 'Trust us, it's perfect for you this way.'

"So that's how I grew up. They shaped my life, my destiny, for me. They introduced me to the people they thought were good, and oftentimes they took advantage of me and our wealth. Who my parents thought would be the best connections and influences were some of the worst bigots and leeches I'd ever met. They decided I was going to lead the family business next, whether I liked it or not; not that that would be the way they'd say it.

"I didn't know how to get out of it. So one night, a few days before I turned 18, I just packed some clothes together, my purse and wallet, and left without a word while everyone was sleeping and no one was looking. I didn't bother to take any belongings, because I didn't want any of them. And I set out from there. I didn't need to stay with any relatives, I turned 18 by the time I got here in Portland. I was on my own, but it's when I really discovered myself. Yes, I know it's corny, but that's how it was."

Falco took his hand off of hers and wrapped it around her back in a sideways hug.

"And I realized I wanted a voice. I didn't know where to do that, though. I was considering activism, but when I saw on TV about an innocent person shot dead by a police officer, before Sheila's brother, I figured that's where I'd head in activism. But I learned to see from both sides, and I realized instead of being a one-way activist, I wanted to be the difference, so I joined the squad. And met you.

"And when I saw you there, under a knife that could kill you at any given moment, I was scared. And I wasn't going to let you die. All three things that ever really meant something to me… all came to a head at one moment. That's what overwhelmed me."

He gave her a slight smile, a relative of his devious grin. Shaking a bit, she went on "You mean so much to me, Falco. You're always there, you've always got my back, you know me well, and if you'd have died there, and I had missed an opportunity to stop it… I don't know how I'd have coped. So, no, it isn't 'just a job.' "

Facing him, she finished with "And I know you can't tell me it's just a job for you."

He held her gaze for a moment and didn't do anything, his face steady. He didn't say anything, but responded nonetheless, by putting a hand on her face, and pulling her in towards him for a kiss.

It was a short kiss, but it conveyed just as much as Peach had done, if not more. He let her go with an unsteady smile, and stated his own succint statement.

"I've always compared us to badass TV crime partners; you know, Goren and Eames, DiNozzo and Ziva, Mary and Marshall, Jane and Lisbon. One thing I've always noted is how damn frustrating waiting for them to get together is. So... I decided to break the trend and just say it."

"And you truly have," Peach looked at him with admiration. "And I love you so much, as much as you love me."

Falco laughed gruffly. "I'm glad to see that I got my message across! Ah," he laughed as they embraced, looking over the river and their reflection.

"I've always found that words and action go great together," Peach mused.

"Agreed."

Falco smiled as he knew that whatever happened from there on out; circumstances as an officer, struggles in a relationship and life's interference be damned, because they had each other, and they loved each other. Certainly worth speaking up for.

_Epilogue- Farrow's Take_

I've been kicking ass for years now, and letting my boot do the talking. I never thought that someone would inspire me and show me that action is for more than just violence.

That kiss was the most important action of my life.

**A/N –Coming Soon-**

**MoD**


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